


Double or Nothing

by ficbear



Series: Gunsel [15]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Facials, Gags, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, M/M, Non-Consensual Violence, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Organized Crime, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Teasing, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbear/pseuds/ficbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had a grin on my face a mile wide when I first set eyes on them in the boss's office. Both tall and stocky, with cropped dark hair and hard brown eyes. Both in expensive suits, with big flashy watches and tie-pins and cufflinks that glittered in the light. Both looking up at me with identical frowns and identical furrowed brows. <em>Twins</em>, I'd thought to myself. <em>Must be my birthday.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Double or Nothing

"I don't know, I swear I don't know," the shopkeeper says, trying to wriggle out of Ray's grip. He knows he's got no chance, you can see that in his face, but he won't give up. Those big arms are locked tight around him like chains wrapped up in silk, and every time he struggles Ray's grip just seems to get tighter, but he keeps on trying.

"Of course you know where he is," Ray says, with a little laugh in his voice like the guy's just slow on the uptake. "It's a shame you won't admit it, though, because that means poor Vic's got to exert himself beating it out of you."

He gives his brother the nod, and Vic slugs the shopkeeper in the stomach again. I'm close enough to them that I can hear every breath that rushes out of the guy, every yelp of pain, and every grunt of effort Vic makes when he really puts his back into it. This is the fourth beating I've seen Ray and Vic dish out tonight, and they aren't getting any less brutal. You'd think they'd be flagging by now, but I reckon they're just getting warmed up. They're getting _me_ warmed up, anyway.

"Honestly," the shopkeeper wheezes. "Honestly, I haven’t seen him in years!"

"Do you think we're idiots?" Ray says, nice and calm and even. "You went to school together. You worked your first job together. Of course you know where he is, you're the first person he'd run to round here if he got into trouble. And _boy_ , is he in trouble." Ray nods at Vic again, and when Vic swings his fist up into the shopkeeper's face, it lands heavy enough that I have to bite my tongue to keep from wincing in sympathy. Well, sympathy and a bit extra.

" _Big_ trouble." Vic says, rubbing at the blood on his knuckles like it's cold cream.

"I'm not lying, I swear, I wouldn't lie to you, would I?" The shopkeeper looks round at me, staring up with big pleading eyes. " _You_ know me, tell them, tell them I wouldn't lie, I'd sell my own mother out the minute you laid a hand on me, wouldn't I? Wouldn't I?"

And he's right, he probably would, but I've got orders to watch and not interfere, so I just smile at Ray and shrug. "Maybe, maybe not. Who knows?"

Ray throws me a smile, and looks down at the shopkeeper. "How many of you chumps are we going to have to work over before you start getting the message?" he says, sighing and shaking his head like he's trying to housetrain a puppy. "How many broken bones is that friend of yours worth?"

Vic must be really itching to go, because Ray's barely given him the nod this time before he throws his next punch, and this one's the heaviest yet. The shopkeeper's head snaps to the side and back again, and he sags in Ray's arms like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh, marvellous." Ray rolls his eyes and lets the shopkeeper drop to the floor. "We need them frightened, Vic, not out cold. Rein it in a bit next time."

"Alright, alright." Vic grunts. "How many more of these have we got to do?"

"Another three or four should do it."

"Okay," Vic says, turning around and kicking one of the broken chairs out of his way. "Let's get on with it, then."

I follow the two of them out the shop door and up the steps. Vic walks on ahead, with his hands shoved in his pockets and back straight as a poker, and with the way the guys on the street scatter as he passes by, he must have a face like thunder. Lucky for me, his brother's far more relaxed. Ray walks a couple of steps behind Vic, slow enough for me to walk alongside him, close enough for me to throw out a few more lines and see whether he's really as interested as he seemed back in the office.

"You sure you're up for another round?" I say, giving him a nice big smirk. "I don't want you guys tiring yourselves out. Not while I'm supposed to be looking after you."

"The night's still young," he says, laughing. "And it'll take more than this to tire me and Vic out, don't worry."

He keeps his eyes on mine, steady and hard, and all of a sudden it feels like I'm stuck under one of those heat lamps. Maybe he's just playing with me, maybe he's just bored and using me to pass the time, but I don’t care. It's worth a shot.

"Well, if you feel like unwinding after tonight's wrapped up—"

"Are you running a combination here or a social club?" Vic snaps, scowling back at us over his shoulder. "Why don't you drop the chatter and keep your mind on the job?" Then he picks up his pace and walks off ahead of us again, before either of us can say a word.

I glance across at Ray. "Are you sure you and him are twins?"

"Oh, don't let all that bother you." Ray laughs. "If he's sore about something, he likes to make sure everyone else gets a taste of it too."

"Yeah? And what about you?"

"Me?" he says, giving me a big, broad smile. "Nothing's worth getting that sore about."

 

* * *

 

I had a grin on my face a mile wide when I first set eyes on them in the boss's office. Both tall and stocky, with cropped dark hair and hard brown eyes. Both in expensive suits, with big flashy watches and tie-pins and cufflinks that glittered in the light. Both looking up at me with identical frowns and identical furrowed brows. _Twins_ , I'd thought to myself. _Must be my birthday_. Now it's feeling like a bit more of a mixed bag. Sure, I'm happy to show them around, take them wherever they need to go, keep an eye on them and report back if they overstep the line, just like the boss said. I probably would've volunteered for the job. But from the minute we left the office together, Vic's been sore at me, sore at his brother, sore at everyone who crosses his path, and now I'm starting to wish the boss had sent someone else along as their chaperone. Or that _their_ boss had sent Ray over here to do this solo. I'd bet my bonus he could wrap this whole thing up single-handed. At least then I wouldn't have Vic there glowering like a gargoyle, putting me right off every time I try to make a move on his brother.

"I don't get it." I say, picking up the cards and shuffling them again. "You two went through more bars last night than I do on a good day. You were at it for hours. I'm surprised Vic's hands aren't broken, with the number of faces he busted up. For all that, you didn't get a single scrap of usable information, and now we're just whiling away the evening playing cards? I don't get it."

"Theatre." Ray says, taking out his nail file.

"What?"

"Last night was all theatre." He looks up at me for a moment and smiles, and then he looks down and starts fine-tuning his manicure. "Just a little show to frighten the locals. Someone somewhere knows where our guy is, and now that someone's going to be weighing up exactly how much keeping that secret's really worth."

"And that someone's going to come straight to you, is he? Scared silly and ready to spill it all?"

"That's the way it usually goes." Ray says, glancing over to his brother. "Isn't that right, Vic?"

Vic doesn't answer. He just keeps on staring up at the ceiling like we're not even there.

Ray gives a curt little laugh. "You're thinking about _him_ again, aren't you?"

And I don't know who this 'him' is, but he must be good, because now Vic's paying attention. "No." he snaps, and there's a few seconds of silence while the two of them stare at each, before Vic finally shrugs and says, "Yeah. So what if I am?"

"You're wasting your time." Ray smiles and goes back to filing his nails. "He'll either come back or he won't, and brooding about it's hardly going to make any difference."

Which is sound advice, but it's not the kind I've ever been able to listen to, and it doesn't look like Vic's any more convinced than I am. He lies there silently for a few seconds, and then he gets up off the bed and yanks the door open with a bang, like he's mad at it for having the gall to be shut in the first place. "I'm going out to get some cigarettes."

"Take your time," Ray says, chuckling. "And don't get into any fights on your way back."

I wait until Vic's gone before I look up from the cards and raise an eyebrow at Ray.

"Boy trouble," he says, not looking up from his nails.

"It usually is." I laugh, but it comes out dry and hollow.

"I don't know why he lets it get to him." Ray shakes his head. "Boys like that are ten a penny. If you get the cold shoulder from one, you just go out and get a replacement, don't you?"

"Exactly," I say, as if it's ever been that simple for me. They're ten a penny, sure, but each one of those ten seems to have his own personal way of getting into my head and staying there.

"So you'll have to forgive Vic if he's not the best company," Ray says, putting the nail file away. "He'll get the job done, don't worry, even if he's a pain to deal with in the meantime."

"Well, I can't be too sore at him. Not when he's done me a favour like this."

Ray looks up at me. "Like what?"

"Giving you and me the chance to spend a bit of quality time together."

He doesn't say anything at first. He just looks at me, looks me up and down like he's checking me out for the first time all over again, and then his lips curl into a smile and he gives a big, deep laugh. "Mr Turner did say we had carte blanche, but I didn't realise you were part of the package."

"I'm supposed to keep you two happy." I say, standing up and shrugging off my jacket. "I'm not going to get anywhere with your brother. But you…" I pause for a second, watching him watching me as I drape my jacket over the chair and get started on my tie. "You, I think I can keep happy."

"Do you?" Ray pushes his chair back a little, so there's just enough room for me to kneel between his legs. "Well, we'll see."

I drop to my knees in front of him, bracing myself with my hands on his thighs, and I lean forward to brush my lips over the bulge of his cock, trailing them inch by inch across the length of it, taking my time like I'm in no hurry at all. Yeah, I could get right down to it. I could have this all wrapped up in about ten minutes flat, but I'm going to take it easy, because if I spin this out, then Vic might come back in time to catch us at it, and if there's even the slimmest chance that tonight ends with me getting double-teamed by a pair of twins, then I'm going to grab it with both hands. So I kneel there, murmuring little appreciative noises into the fabric while I grind my face into his crotch like I can't get enough of the feel of him, but I keep my hands off until he's hard as a rock and jutting against my cheek, blunt and hot. Then I slip one hand up to get to work on Ray's fly, and that's when he grabs my wrist and squeezes that slim chance down to none at all.

"You were hoping we'd be interrupted, weren't you?" he laughs as he stands up. He's still chuckling as he locks the door and turns off the main light, and when he turns back to me, I can see the contempt and amusement in his eyes, even with only the desk-lamp there to light up his face. I can see exactly what he thinks of me, and it hits me like a good backhand.

"Maybe I was," I say, looking up at him and shrugging.

"' _Maybe_ '…" he says, soft and deep and rich with scorn. His hand rests on the back of my head, his fingers tangle in my hair, and he yanks my head back just a little more, just to show me I don't have a choice about it. "You'd love it if Vic came through that door right now, wouldn't you?"

"Both of you at once…" I say, trailing off into a groan when that hand tightens in my hair. "That, I'd do for free."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Ray shoves my head down and grinds my face against his cock again, only this time we're going at his pace, not mine.

"Yeah, but you're in luck…" I slide my hands up to his fly again. "Because you get me all to yourself."

Again he grabs my wrist and shoves my hand aside. I guess he really doesn't want me taking matters into my own hands. Instead he keeps me there, holding onto my wrist while he does the job himself. He takes his time, too, and by the time he presses the head of his cock to my lips, I'm on the verge of begging for a taste of him, but he doesn't even give me the chance. He grabs my hair, pulls me forward, and shoves his cock into my mouth as rough as if it was his own fist he was sliding into. I can't help groaning around him, straining forward, trying to take a little more, but Ray barely lets me move an inch. He just holds my head in both hands and fucks my mouth nice and slow. I bring my hands up, trying to slide them around the base of his cock to steady myself, to give him the works, to at least touch him a little, but he's having none of it. He swats my hands away every time. The way he holds me still, the way grips my hair and my neck to keep me exactly in position, I feel like all I am is a wet, open mouth for him to fuck. Like I'm just a toy, just a piece of meat, just one of those ten a penny boys he can replace at the drop of a hat. I feel like a cheap, disposable bit of trash, and that gets me so hot and bothered I can't keep my hands off myself for another minute. Only it seems like Ray doesn't want me handling my own business any more than he'll let me handle his.

"Get up," he orders, as soon as I start unbuttoning my fly. "And get those clothes off."

"Since you asked nicely," I laugh, but I do as I'm told, and I don't linger over it, either. I could push him, I could ignore the order and find out if he's the vicious type, and if I was here on my own time I would. But I'm not risking this job for the sake of wishful thinking, so for now I behave myself. I strip off as quick as I can, and when I'm naked I go over to stand in front of him, hands on my hips and a nice sharp smirk on my face.

"So? What now?" I say, staring up at him. Yeah, I'm going to behave myself, but I'm not going overboard with it. "What—"

He grabs my arms, spins me round and bends me over the table, shoving me down hard enough to knock the wind right out of me. The playing cards are spread out underneath me, scraping against my chest, and I can feel the desk-lamp shining right on my back, heating me up on one side while the wood of the table chills me on the other. And then Ray steps up behind me and presses his cock against my ass, and I can't feel anything else except the heat and the hardness of him. He laughs quietly as he teases me, rubbing his shaft between the cheeks of my ass, grinding against me slow and hard, crushing me against the table, and now I can't resist baiting him. Job or no job, I can't help myself.

"You're taking your time," I say, throwing a little smirk at him over my shoulder. "Anyone'd think _you_ were the one who wanted to get interrupted. Or d'you just enjoy making your brother wait outside while you have your fun?"

"That's cute," he says, with a little chuckle, "but it won't get you anywhere."

There's a quiet clinking noise, and then Ray grabs my wrists and yanks my hands behind my back, and before I know it he's got me handcuffed as fast as any copper ever has.

"What's the matter?" I sneer, tugging against the cuffs til they rattle. "Am I too much for you to handle on your own? Maybe you really do need your brother's help."

He doesn't say a word. He just leans over me and opens the drawer of the cabinet next to us. I twist around to try to get a look at whatever he's taking out of the drawer, but it isn't til he tears off a length of the duct tape that I realise what he's planning, and the thing's fixed tight over my mouth before I can get a word out.

"I've heard enough of your talk for one night," he says, pouring out a bit of lube into his palm. "And besides, boys like you don't even really need words, do you? Whimpers and moans are more than enough."

I scowl at him and start to tell him where to go, but the tape muffles every word. Then his fingers slide down between the cheeks of my ass, and I have to swallow a groan. He pushes one finger into me, and my back arches. He gives me another, and my thighs spread a little wider, as if that's going to make him give me what I want. The third finger slides into my ass, and I can't control myself anymore. I push back against him, pulling against the cuffs and squirming against the table underneath me. Then he pushes the fourth finger in, and before I know it I'm moaning desperate little pleas against the gag, begging him to fuck me, begging him to stop teasing me and give me his cock, to hold me down and ram it into me, to use me however he wants, but all that comes out is a long stream of whimpers and groans, all drowned and buried underneath the tape. I can feel him pressing up against me. I can feel his cock brushing against my hip, still wet from when it was buried in my throat, still hot and hard and smooth like velvet over an iron rod, rubbing against me, driving me mad. And then he moves around to stand behind me, and the thought of him finally fucking me is so good I can barely stand it.

"You're good and ready for it now, aren't you?" he says, pulling his hand out of me. "You want it so much, I'm tempted to walk away and leave you hanging."

And you know, I think he would, too. I scowl and tell him exactly what I think of that idea, and maybe the words are muffled, but I reckon he gets the message. He just stands there smiling down at me, keeping me waiting, keeping me guessing, until I feel like I'm going to burst. Then he grabs hold of my hips and slides his cock into me, giving me the whole lot in the one thrust, and suddenly all the frustration seems worth it. More than worth it. He fucks me hard and fast right from the start, no mercy. It's deep and brutal and vicious, and I'd be howling the walls down if he hadn't spent so long opening me up with all that teasing, but I can't get enough. I can't get anywhere _near_ enough. I squirm underneath him, pushing myself onto his cock, trying to take it deeper and faster, trying to force him to give it to me harder each time, but he doesn't stand for that any more than he stood for me getting my hands dirty.

"Get up," Ray orders, but it's not like I've got any choice either way. He hauls me upright by the shoulders and drags me over to the bed, and when he pushes me down so I land hard on my side, he's wearing this razor-sharp smile like he really wouldn't mind if the fall broke me into pieces. He looks down at me like I'm nothing, like I'm just a piece of trash to amuse himself with, and he's still looking at me like that as he kneels below me, as he pins me down by the neck and slides his cock back into me, as he starts fucking me again, grinding his cock into my ass in short, vicious strokes that get me moaning and cursing him under the tape. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore, it's all a jumbled mess, gag or no gag. When he reaches down and grabs hold of my cock, I feel like I can barely breathe, let alone string a sentence together. He strokes me as roughly as he's fucking me, like he's going to make me come out of sheer spite, and it's embarrassing how quickly he gets me right up to boiling point. He's got me trembling and whimpering and squirming in his grip like some overheated teenager, and I can see in his eyes just how much he's enjoying the show. He's going to push me over the edge and laugh in my face while he does it, I can tell. I know that look, and it's got me scowling up at him even as I'm thrusting forward into his hand, trying to get just a bit more friction, just a bit more pressure, just a little more—

"What's the rush?" he says, taking his hand away. "We've got plenty of time to enjoy ourselves."

He slows his pace right down, fucking me in shallow little strokes, barely moving at all, but he's buried so deep inside me that every time his cock twitches and throbs it drives another desperate groan out of me. I twist and writhe underneath him, trying to force him to fuck me harder, trying to do the work myself, but it's useless. I can barely move at all with the weight of him pinning me down, and when his hand slips down to my cock again, all I can do is lie there and glare up at him. His fingers are rough and tight around me, about as gentle as the hand on my neck, and it takes him no time at all to get me wound up to breaking point again.

"Still in a hurry, are you?" he laughs, as he lets go of me. "What’s the matter, have you got somewhere else to be?"

He's lucky I'm cuffed, because if I had my hands free I'd have taken a swing at him by now, job or no job. As it is, the only thing I can throw at Ray is a scowl and a mouthful of words I'm lucky he can't hear. When his fingers curl around my cock again, the noise that wells up in my throat is pathetic enough that even I want to laugh. I sound like a dog whining to be let in from the cold. I should be ashamed of how easy it is to push my buttons, but I'm way past shame now. I'm begging and cursing him, promising to do whatever he wants, calling him every name under the sun, telling him to stop teasing me and get on with it, telling him how much I need it, how good his cock feels, how good his hand feels, how much I want to come while he's fucking me, saying everything I can think of to get him to give in. The whole time he's just smiling down at me, keeping me right on the edge like he could do this all night. Then finally, _finally_ he tightens up his grip and pushes me over the edge, and now I'm bucking and twisting and arching up off the bed, digging my nails into my palms and crying out like he's breaking me in two, over and over until my muscles go limp and my bones feel like jelly, and I'm sagging back against the mattress, covered in sweat and come, grinning like a fool under the tape.

"So it turns out you're not just impatient, you've got a hair trigger, too." Ray says, with a sharp little chuckle. "I don't know whether to be flattered or offended."

And I should be fuming, but I'm too tired and happy to care how much he needles me, so I just smirk up at him and shrug.

"Well," he says, wiping his hand off on my leg, "even if your stamina's not up to much, you've still got your uses."

He grabs hold of my wrists in one hand and my neck in the other, and now he's not smiling down at me. His eyes are hard and cold as he really starts to give it to me, and just looking up into them makes me shudder. Every so often he gives me a deep, hard thrust that makes me yelp and wince, and the noise just seems to spur him on. Maybe he hasn't smacked me around, but he wants to hurt me all the same, and when I turn up the volume on the pained little sounds he's driving out of me, he squeezes his hand around my throat tight enough that for a minute I think he's really trying to choke the life out of me. Then he reaches up and tears the tape off my mouth, pulls out of my ass and grabs hold of my hair, and the next thing I know he's straddling my chest, working his hand over his cock, coming in hot thick spurts all over my face and hair and throat, holding me still until the last spray of it hits my chest, until I'm drenched and sticky and drowning in the scent of him.

"Happy?" I say, when I've caught my breath.

"Fairly," he says, and now it's that amiable tone and that broad, easy smile again. "Happier than Vic'll be right now, anyway."

 

* * *

 

"Just a bit of noise, a bit of shouting, the usual song and dance." Ray puts his hand on Vic's shoulder. "But don't go too far. Remember, you don't—"

"You don't make a mess when you’re a guest in someone's house." Vic says, with a little flicker of a smile. "I was there for that lecture too, you know."

"Just making sure," Ray laughs.

"Yeah, well, this'd better be the end of it," Vic mutters as he gets out of the car. "I'm sick of this place."

He heads off toward the bar, head down and shoulders square, and I can't take my eyes off him as he goes. Which isn't surprising, I guess—he's big and mean and decent-looking, of course I'm paying attention—but it's more than that. It's because I know how he feels. I know what it's like to be burned by a boy you wish you could hate, to end up hating yourself for not being able to shake it off. I've done that dance before, and I guess looking at him, it makes me wonder if I'll still be doing it when I'm his age. It makes me wonder if he deals with it the same way I do. It makes me wonder if he'd enjoy taking out a bit of that frustration on a convenient target, if he'd even go for a target like me in the first place.

"Now, when we catch up to him, watch yourself." Ray says, and it takes me a moment to figure out what he's talking about.

"Yeah, sure," I say, nodding like I've been paying attention the whole time.

"I mean it. You know what they say about cornered rats."

"Yeah, I know." I lean back in my seat. "This isn't my first—"

"There he goes," Ray cuts me off, and sure enough there's a guy in a crumpled suit running full pelt down the street in front of us, looking back over his shoulder every few seconds like he's got a pack of dogs chasing him. We drive along at a good pace, gaining on him nice and steady, and when the guy spots Ray's car it's like someone's lit a fire underneath him. He runs hard, harder than I think I've ever seen anyone run before, but he's wasting his time. I know these streets better than any runaway could, and it takes maybe two or three well-chosen turns before we've steered the guy into a corner he's not getting out of.

"That alley," I say, pointing to the other side of the street. "It's a dead end."

Ray swerves around in front of the guy, and like clockwork he dodges into the alley with a big stupid grin on his face like he thinks he's won.

"Remember what I said," Ray says, quiet and firm. He's got his gun in his hand as he gets out of the car, so I take my blackjack out, for whatever that's worth, and I follow him down the alley a couple of steps behind. I shouldn't even be out here, I should be watching and not interfering, but there's no way I'm going to let Ray wrap this up on his own. As we walk down together, the guy in the crumpled suit is at the end of the alley, frantically jumping up and trying to reach the top of the wall, as if he's got any chance of climbing over something that tall. I can't help laughing. He might as well be trying to jump over the moon.

"It's over, Jones." Ray says calmly.

"No," Jones says, when he finally turns around. "No, come on, you can't…"

"Cuff him." Ray reaches into his pocket and tosses me the handcuffs. "Then open the boot and get the tape."

So I guess this stuff is for business as well as pleasure. I do as I'm told and cuff Jones' hands behind his back, and as I'm fetching the duct tape, I'm wondering how many guys have taken a ride in the boot of Ray's car. I'm wondering how many were one-way trips.

"Alright, gag him." Ray orders, and I find myself doing it without a thought, like it's the most natural thing in the world. It's only once Jones is standing there looking up at me like I'm the hangman holding the noose that I realise just how far beyond watching I've ended up going. I haven't got the stomach for this kind of thing, not right in front of me where I can see it. Where I can't pretend this guy's just getting his marching orders. I haven't got the stomach for this at all, so when Ray hauls the guy off toward the car, all of a sudden I feel like I can breathe again. When he shoves him into the boot and shuts the lid, when I can't see Jones lying there staring up at us anymore, I feel almost happy. Yeah, alright, I don't know what's at the end of the trip this guy's about to take, but for all I know he deserves everything he's going to get. For all I know he's done something bad enough that I'd do the job myself, if it was us he'd crossed.

"Have you got it all wrapped up?" a voice says behind us, and when I turn around Vic's heading down the alley toward us.

"Of course," Ray says, tapping on the boot lid. "Anyway, you took your time getting here. Did you stop off for a drink on your way?"

"Some squirt took a swing at me while I was flushing our friend out."

Ray laughs. "Is there anything left of him?"

"A lot more than there would be, if he'd done that back home." Vic gets into the driver's seat and starts the engine. "Come on, we're finished here, aren't we?"

"Alright, hold your horses." Ray opens the passenger door, and for a minute I think he's just going to get in and go without a word to me. Then he turns around and gives me one of those big, broad smiles. "Tell Mr Turner we're very grateful for his help."

"Sure." I say, watching him get into the car.

Vic scoffs. "Yeah, and ask him if next time he could maybe send someone with less of a mouth on him."

I laugh and shove my hands into my pockets. The alley feels freezing all of a sudden, and as I watch them drive off, I have to clench my fists to stop my hands from shaking. I'm still shivering as I walk back out of the alley, and by the time I'm passing by the bar, it's like the wind's cutting right through to my bones. I keep walking, and as I walk, the same thought keeps going round and round in my head. Maybe I was stupid to say yes to this assignment. Maybe when the boss asked me if I fancied playing chaperone for a couple of twins, I should have asked a few questions before I said 'yes, sir'. I don't know, maybe I should have just said 'thanks, but no thanks' and let him give the job to one of the other boys.

I stop, and run my hand through my hair. Who am I kidding? When the boss says jump, I jump. Even if it means I have to walk home feeling like this. If I have to put a hundred chumps in the boot of a hundred cars and watch them be driven off into god knows what, if it's for the old man, I'll slam that lid every time.


End file.
